Courting Demons
by BrutieBoots
Summary: Feeling insecure and inadequate, Tripp wants to prove himself. Preying on a human from his favourite music store with a special interest in him, he decides to take out his frustrations. But when his kill gets a lot more complicated, chaos will set in.
1. According To Plan

_Author's Note: _Just letting you know this is set before Blood Relatives. ^^ Oh and the quote below is from Bram Stoker's _Dracula_.

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><p><em><strong>Vampire Kisses <strong>_**Fanfiction**

**COURTING DEMONS**

**01. **_According To Plan_

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><p>'<em>Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!'<em>

Time had stopped, stopped dead in its tracks.

At least it felt that way to Tripp as he narrowed his eyes into a murderous glare at the clock overhead as if to threaten time forward. He watched as the second hand struggled over the half hour hurdle, almost falling back before finally plunging over. He exhaled, a wave of relief crashing over him as the school day was a few seconds closer to an end. He needed to get out of there. He needed to get away from _them_.

Most days he would have been at peace in class, flaunting his superior intellect by completing all his work within a matter of minutes as those around him still struggled with the first question. Then he would sit back, techno punk music blasting into his ears and smirk at his inferiors, his advanced hearing picking up their snide whines. This place, although human, was his comfort zone, not even the adults could doubt his abilities as he constantly produced flawless work. And in a world where he was an outsider, a half-breed, not quite fitting in anywhere, he needed that comfort zone.

But today was different. Today the comfort was gone and left in its wake was a sense of unrest, a bitter weakness with hints of helplessness. Today Tripp felt inadequate even amongst his trio of friends, the three who shared his half-vampire status. Even if they too were outsiders, they still had the place he lost, they still had the strength he lacked; he found that where he had intelligence and insecurities, they had everything else, they had confidence and purpose.

Over the rim of his square-framed glasses, he looked to his side where Rocco sat, at least double the width of his skeletal thin body and nearly double his average height. His toned arms were propped up on the desk, crushing his untouched work as he rested his strong jaw on balled up fists. In a tight-fitting torn shirt and pair of scuffed up jeans, the dips and curves of his chiselled form were fully exposed to onlookers. To complete his look, a grey beanie was pulled over his mess of black hair, a few fringes poking free to frame his impatient expression. He too was staring at the clock, willing the second hand to strike twelve and release them from class, but for entirely different reasons.

As always, Rocco was desperate to escape the intellectual world and dive into the physical. With a figure like his, everyone could see he was a sports star who could rule the football field and conquer the rugby pitch. When he entered the sport universe, Rocco fit in, he had acquaintances who would congratulate him on his abilities and spectators to fawn over his looks. And Tripp envied him so. He had looks, he had strength, he could defend himself–and Tripp–against the bullies, both human and vampire. He had no need for intelligence when he trampled anyone who got in his way and charmed his way to women's necks with his ruggedness.

At the table next to theirs sat the two remaining members of the quartet, Kat and Claude. Bubbles of peach-coloured gum continuously burst from Kat's lips as she scribbled down the answers at her own pace, able to hold her own in class. A dark chocolate pixie cut fell to her jaw in hazardous layers, swishing about her jaw when she moved her head from side to side in thought with her ebony streaks shimmering. Even from afar, Tripp could see the charcoal eyeliner running rings around her dark eyes, flicking out at the edges in a feline style, emphasising her gothic taste. This showcase of her taste continued with her dark violet and ebony corset dress complete with tattered fishnets and a pair of platform leather boots.

Kat was the only female of their troupe but she held her own against anyone, even Rocco who towered at least a foot taller than her. She was tough, thick-skinned with a sharp tongue and foul language. The human bullies rarely crossed her path, only the vampires dared to take on her unrestrained anger and vengeful nature. If those around her weren't being torn apart, they were treated to a sultry smirk and flirtatious words, Kat knowing how to wrap a man around her finger. She was a master manipulator. Even though she was smaller than Tripp and matching him in strength, she could hold her own and didn't need the protection of others. She was strong even in physical weakness, something Tripp wanted but never achieved.

Finally there was the leader of their quartet, leaning casually with an arm draped around the back of his chair. Running his tongue over the silver ring pierced through his bottom lip, he inspected the girls the school was offering him, looking for a temple to twist and defile before stealing her blood. His ivory-dyed mop fell about his handsome face, framing it perfectly with his black roots bleeding through. In a pair of skin-tight plaid jeans, a blood splattered shirt and his trademark leather jacket littered in spikes, Claude oozed confidence that his cunning smirk easily matched. Not to mention his array of sterling silver rings and dark accessories flaunted his immense wealth. He really had it all except for full vampirism–if he had that, then Claude really would be faultless and Tripp would resent him more than anything.

Although he was _not _a full vampire–and they were friends who trusted one another–Tripp still felt sour. He was gorgeous to every woman even with his startling dress sense; he could charm anyone and get almost anything he wanted. He was determined, confident, flirtatious and dangerous. His aggression often clashed with Kat's strength and Rocco's rugged behaviour. Not to mention Claude whined constantly about his royal Sterling family, claiming they neglected him when they truly cared for him, when they gave him everything just to make him comfortable with what he was. Tripp's, on the other hand, couldn't care less about him. He was an embarrassment to them, in their eyes he was barely a vampire; he lacked the strength, the brutality of his friends and the vampires around them.

Tripp sighed and looked away from his friends; he shouldn't judge them and indulge his jealousy. They weren't to blame for how he felt, it was all in his head and he never spoke to them about it. How were they supposed to know? They couldn't read his mind nor would they want to. No one wanted to know of how inadequate he feels when his parents put him down, when his friends have to protect him, when he has to depend on others to hunt. At least he thought they wouldn't want to know.

"You alright?" Rocco grunted, breaking Tripp from his sea of thoughts. His eyes never left the clock but his thick eyebrows were arched curiously. He had clearly noticed Tripp's anguish out of the corner of his hawk-like eyes.

"Fine," Tripp lied even though his friend had just given him the opportunity to confess his inner conflict. "I just need to get out of here."

"I thought you loved this hellhole," he frowned as he spoke. "But you're the only one who does."

"Well I'm famished,"

Rocco nodded in agreement with Tripp's lie, understanding the excuse. It was hard to enjoy anything when you are a vampire, full or not, in need of blood.

"We'll grab a snack before sports."

Suddenly something clicked into place in his mind; with the aid of Rocco's suggestion, Tripp knew what he had to do. He had to prove himself. He had to show everyone that he could do it, that he could be a vampire, that he _was _a vampire. He would go out and grab a snack, grab one all by himself without the aid of his friends. He would go for a woman; he would swallow his nervousness around them and take charge. He was shy around anyone, but women paralysed his vocal cords and made butterflies flutter through his stomach. But he would get passed that, if he couldn't talk to one, he would summon up his strength and pin her down. He would let her struggle and beg as he tortured her to satisfy his needs and soothe his self-doubts.

Soon enough the school bell rang and everyone in the room climbed to their feet. Tripp hurriedly shoved everything into his bag, desperate to begin his hunt. His friends simply watched with scrunched up expressions, bewildered by his frantic excitement. Tripp was usually the calm and collected one, the brains.

"What's got you so spooked?" Claude grinned, clapping a hand around his shoulder and shocking Tripp from his plan.

"Nothing," the word came out of his mouth so fast that it barely made any sense. He gulped and calmed himself. "I just have stuff to do."

"_Stuff_?" Kat repeated with a disapproving look, seeing through his barefaced lie. "What kind of _stuff_?"

"Just stuff I have to get done," Tripp stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I can complete my commitments."

"You're going? I thought we just agreed to grab a little snack before training," Rocco blurted as he snatched up his sports bag, patting it to emphasise his point. "Otherwise I won't be free to hunt with you guys until later."

"And we'd better get out there before sundown, beat the vampire rush," Claude added with a nudge to Tripp's ribs. "We know how much of a damper the bullies can be on your mood."

"Well I'll have to deal with it then," Tripp snapped as he was reminded of what his friends thought of him. They clearly saw him as weak too. "See you guys later."

With that he stormed passed them, ignoring their bewildered looks. Their words only made him more determined to prove himself to them, to his parents, to everyone. He was tired of his image, he was tired of everything. Now he was going to change everything with the aid of his newfound determination and resolve. So when his foot first stepped out of the school, his hunt began.

Unfortunately, as determined as Tripp was, he was lost. Once he had walked a few blocks and arrived in the main city districts, he had no idea where to go or how to go about anything. Claude always led their hunts–although Tripp was the tactician. He didn't know the clubs or hotspots like his friends did. He never went to them alone. So instead of venturing into the unknown, he sought out places he was familiar with. That was how he ended up in the basement beneath one of the towering buildings.

The basement was separate from the building itself. Dark stairs led into a concrete pit set in the ground around the corner from the rotating glass doors leading into the building. In the pit sat the only door to the underground room, giving the basement its own designated entrance. The basement itself housed one of Tripp's favourite places in the whole city; _Neon Chords_. It was a music shop with practically every range of tunes in existence, from famous to obscure bands.

The interior was just as impressive as the music collection. It resembled a cavern with jagged stone pillars supporting the ceiling, the cave-like room only illuminated by neon lighting. Music pounded through the store, practically vibrating the store to such a degree that some feared cave-ins. Racks filled with albums and the tables advertising the latest music-related technologies–from portable media players to high-tech speaker systems–decorated the shop floor. Here Tripp felt at home. He belonged with his own state of the art portable player slipped into the pocket of his slim-fitting pinstripe trousers, blasting his odd taste of music into his ears.

Time flew by as he browsed through one of the racks, flipping through the albums of bands he loved and ones he had never heard of. It had taken his mind off of his insecurities and the unsuccessful hunt he was on. In fact as he snatched up a few CDs, he released how relieved he was of all his angst and frustration. He had spent several hours by himself, with his thoughts, doing what _he _wanted. He had proven that he didn't need his friends, that he didn't need anyone else's help to function already. He had been alone out at night and he had handled everything; he wasn't beaten to a pulp by bullies or struggling to hold a woman down and drink from her. He just had to be alone and collect his thoughts. That was all he needed.

Without realising it, Tripp found his lips curling into a small smile at the thought. Although he still felt unsure about his adequacy, he felt that some of the burden of his recent insecurities had been lifted. It seemed someone had noticed his lingering presence in the store–and change in mood–as when he crouched over a shelf, absorbed in his search for new music, something obstructed his searching eyes. The CD stared up at him, its cover decorated by a collage stylised as the human brain with the creative areas highlighted. Although it was only a few millimetres from his pallid features, Tripp didn't jerk back. Instead his piercing ashen eyes simply darted up, glancing at the beholder over the frames of his glasses.

She stood on the other side of the rack; leaning towards it to present Tripp with the CD she had chosen. She was short, shorter than him–and he was thankful for it, most women matched his height–but she didn't look significantly younger. Her skin was fair, smooth as a porcelain doll but not nearly as pale as his. Golden hair fell passed her shoulders in messy layers with a set of slanted bangs skimming just above her dark jade eyes that watched him curiously. The edges of her peach lips stretched into a welcoming smile when he glanced her way, urging him to accept her gift.

With her developed torso compressed into a black shirt printed with the Neon Chords logo–not to mention the name tag pinned to her chest, revealing her name to be Catalina–Tripp identified her as an employee. It explained the air of familiarity about her; she worked the till frequently but, like most people, was ignored by the socially awkward half-vampire. After a few moments of staring, which Tripp barely registered doing, her smile dropped and she spoke.

"The band is called Lateral Thinking," she explained gently. "Based on everything else you've been looking at, you'll love them, trust me."

Hesitatingly, Tripp took the album from her fingerless glove-clad hands, finding the band name splashed around the edge in absurd lettering. He wanted to speak, after all if there was anything he knew better than most, it was music. But his vocal cords once again refused to move and he felt nervousness set in. The longer he stared at her, the quicker his insecurities returned at full blast. If Claude were there, he would have had the girl wrapped around his finger already. How he hated his inability to talk to women.

That was when he noticed it. The smell of her blood wafted through his nostrils, delicious as any woman's, but there was something different. He had smelt it before, directed towards Rocco or Claude–or towards Kat in the case of men and certain women–but never for him. It was strange yet all the more alluring, her quickened heart rate with that sweet aroma of her rushing hormones. With his vast knowledge, he could have named every hormone being released into her bloodstream, bombarding her body but he'd never been the subject of such a change. He'd never been found so _attractive_, if that was the word to describe her reaction to him.

He wasn't sure what to do. He felt helpless with his mind was racing with angst-ridden worries once again. He was in the perfect situation, the situation his friends easily took advantage of; her hormones were brewing and the store was emptying. But he couldn't do anything, he felt rooted to the spot. So instead of imitating his friends and overcoming his shyness, he simply dropped his gaze to the CD and shrunk back into his shell.

Only after Catalina shrugged and turned her back to him did he look up, watching her return to her place at the till. She swung her hips as she walked to the beat of the thumping music, humming softly and drumming her hands against her thighs in time. His disappointment was soon replaced with frustration, she irritated him and her presence mocked him. She personified his inferiority, his weakness and he wanted nothing more than to tear her throat out. He just had to pluck up the courage, but he was starving and now he was angry too.

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><p>"Are sure you're okay with locking up?"<p>

Tripp listened from the other end of the store as the manager spoke to Catalina. His tactics were in place, his plan was formulated. He just had to wait for the time to be right then Tripp would attack and stamp out all his fears–and her life.

"Completely sure, Sam," Catalina replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Are you heading home tonight?"

"Nope, got plans," the manager shook his head. "But I'll tell Isella to meet you at the station when I pass by the studio. Just text her when you're done."

"Will do," she saluted him, a playful grin on her lips.

"Catch you later."

After dumping the keys on the counter before her, he exited the store with his footsteps quickly fading away. Tripp sniffed the air just to confirm his suspicions; with the manager gone, he was left alone with Catalina. Confirming this, he made his move towards the counter and, when she caught sight of him, was once again flooded with her hormonal scent. With her blood teasing him, his exhilaration grew. He was going to do it.

"Hello," he croaked, his voice cracking but his resolve remained strong.

"Do you need any help? I'll be closing up soon."

"I do," he needed to get her out of the room and his lie formulated in an instant. "Do you have any Royal Sterling in stock?"

"_Royal Sterling_?" The name he fabricated rolled off of her tongue smoothly.

"They're a band. Bit obscure, I thought you'd be the most likely to have them," he was surprised at how solid his voice was becoming. This well-structured plan of his seemed to control his nerves. "But I struggled to find them on the shelves."

"Explains why you've been here for so long," she smiled before seizing the keys on the counter. "I'll check the stockroom for you. Stay here,"

"Sorry for the trouble,"

"Don't be," Catalina called over her shoulder as she unlocked the room hidden behind the counter. "There's a list of all our stock, it'll just take a second."

"Thanks." He mumbled, never taking his eyes off of her.

As soon as she disappeared into the stockroom, Tripp leapt over the counter after her. She was alone, vulnerable and he was a predator. Within seconds her back collided with the far wall, pinned underneath his clawed hands as the lights flickered into light. She gawked at him, her eyes widening and her jaw dropping with utter confusion.

"W-w-what?" She stuttered in her daze, her body instinctively struggling beneath his grasp.

"Stop it!" He roared before tearing his claws through one of her upper arms. He wasn't going to let her wriggling ruin this for him.

She shrieked through her gasps for air as blood began to seep from the scratches, staining along the tears in her sleeve. With a wet film glossing over her eyes, announcing the fast approaching tears, she stared up at him and finally saw what he was. He smirked, waiting to bask in her fear as he bared his fangs, his claws at the ready.

"You're one of..." She whispered, blinking away her sadness and replacing it with calm. She sighed, closing her eyes patiently. "Just don't make it hurt."

"What?" Tripp was dumbfounded.

Catalina wasn't scared at all, she was content. She had bravely accepted her fate, she chose not to fight. This had never happened with his friends. This wasn't supposed to happen. Now Catalina was rapidly becoming something he hated more than his own insecurities; something he couldn't understand. As an eager pursuer of knowledge, he needed to understand, his intelligence was all he had and she was undermining that. His anger evaporated away, perplexity replacing it. He no longer wanted to kill her, he could _not _kill her. He had to understand her first, he had to answer all the questions she was inspiring within him. He had to know.

Noticing his sudden hesitation, she took hold of his hand and guided it around the back of her head. She used it to tilt her head, securing it and revealing the nape of her neck to Tripp. She knew exactly what he had wanted and even stranger, she was giving him full access. But this only made him reject her more.

It was as if her blood was curdling before his eyes, its sweetness was turning sour. She smelt of hatred, of death, of destruction. And all of this just made nausea bubble up inside of Tripp, wiping away his hunger and desire for revenge. He didn't want her blood anymore; he didn't want any of this anymore. As her calm complacency grew, his confident dissolved and his own fear took its place.

_What is wrong with this girl?_ He thought, glancing over her tranquil features and closed eyes.

Nothing was going according to plan; she was offering her blood to him but he couldn't take it. He couldn't understand her. So with one last look and a nervous pit digging deep into his stomach, Tripp scrambled out of the store and vanished into the darkness. He had to get away.


	2. Don't Hide The Scissors

_Author's Note: _My internet has been going nuts, keeps shutting off randomly or refusing to let me load any web pages but still access anything else connected to the internet. It's _very _annoying. xD

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><p><em><strong>Vampire Kisses <strong>_**Fanfiction**

**COURTING DEMONS**

**02. **_Don't Hide The Scissors_

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><p>Knowing there was no escape, Catalina simply waited, her eyes held tightly shut. She didn't want to watch her fair-haired attacker make his move; she just wanted him to be gentle. She wouldn't struggle if he wouldn't hurt her. But the sweet relief of death never came, there was no sharp pain, no slow draining of her life. Instead the cold hand against her neck fled, the shadow looming over her vanished and only silence remained.<p>

"Hello?" Her voice echoed through the store as she reluctantly peeled her eyes open.

Where the boy once stood there was only darkness, the cavern-like room seemingly devoid of all other life. It was just her and the thumping music. But she refused to trust her eyes; she knew the demons all too well. Some liked to play with their food, lull them into a false sense of security and freedom before tearing the unsuspecting human to shreds. And she didn't fancy dying in such a way; she didn't want to run as far as her legs could carry her just to be caught by him once again.

So she just waited, nuzzled into the corner of the storeroom where the attack had begun. She narrowed her eyes, carefully inspecting every sliver of the _Neon Chords _store for a moving shadow or glistening fang. When after several moments of silence no such signs came, she abandoned her search. She tried to move from the wall but doubled back, jolts of pain erupting from the gashes ripped across her upper arm.

"Are you there?" She cried out as she cradled her wound, feeling the fresh blood smear onto her hand.

This was the last test to see if her freedom was real; a starving vampire could never resist the blood of their victim. Finally dubbing the room empty of any supernatural presence without a sliver of doubt, she stumbled free from the storeroom. After finding a first aid kit tucked into the cashier counter–as is required in every store–she bandaged her scratches, her thoughts reflecting over her life threatening situation and unlikely freedom. She was utterly dumbfounded.

_How could he just leave? _She wondered, running her fingers over the freshly dressed wounds absentmindedly. _It doesn't make any sense._

Then it dawned on her as her fingertips reached the nape of her neck, the reason he fled was obvious now. It was her stupidity that drove him off, she had gotten so carried away in the release of death that when she presented her neck to the boy, what lay there slipped her mind. The gothic emblem branded her–against her will albeit–and he must have recognised it. She was so close to escaping everything and blew it in one slip of her neck.

"I'm sorry," she murmured in some vain hope that the terrified boy might hear her. "I didn't realise..."

With her arm sufficiently dressed, Catalina tucked the first aid kit away and grabbed her bag before locking up the store. The late night breeze slammed against her like a brick wall as she exited the well-heated basement, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She cursed herself for not bringing a jacket–to her it seemed another tribute to her stupidity–despite her long walk to the train station through the bitter cold. Even worse the attacker had torn her sleeve, leaving only a thin veil of bandage to protect her still bleeding wounds, the blood pooling in the cotton clearly exposing her injury to any onlookers. She knew she'd have some explaining to do when she got to the train.

Just as the thought crossed her mind and she began contemplating over her explanation, the train station manifested before her. It was easy to spot–at least when one wasn't lost in thought–the only grubby single-floored building amongst a sea of towering gourmet restaurants and bustling clubs. The station's chrome tracks and grey bricks glistened in the moonlight pouring over the horizon, stretching shadows along the walkways around the building. Catalina found this invitation back into the darkness a mockery, a taunt towards her suspicion of the vampire hiding within the shadows, watching her. She ran her fingers through her golden tangles, combing them about her neck to cover her marking, just in case there _was _another creature of the night waiting to jump her.

"You really took your time, I'm freezing,"

A smooth voice broke the stiff evening silence as Catalina crept around the corner towards the tracks, nearly making the unsuspecting girl jump out of her own skin. She whipped around, fists at the ready, half-expecting her attacker to be standing there instead of the human girl she had arranged to meet.

"I had to lock up, Isa," she muttered, pointing towards the shelter. "And you could've waited inside."

Isella Drakov narrowed her pale hazel orbs, the beauty mark dotted just below the left one moving with her glower as she pulled the sleeves of her over-sized sweater over her chilled hands. Side-swept bangs skimmed above her glaring eyes before moulding into a waterfall of chocolate brown curls that tumbled to her elbows, framing her fair skin and sculpted form. In her agitation, she tucked several ringlets behind one of her ears to reveal an array of piercings before tugging them free to re-tuck systematically.

Catalina knew all too well that if there was anything that could make the otherwise calm and collected seventeen-year-old irritated; it was being left waiting on a cold Romanian night an hour from their hometown. This was made worse by the fact that her whole outfit was just as inappropriate as Catalina's for a late night stroll; only a pair of leggings shielded her slender legs and her feet, slipped into ballet flats, were left sock free. The sweater itself was only a thin veil against the nipping wind and her modesty, allowing the curves of Isella's petite body to seep through.

"Sorry for being late." Catalina conceded defeat eventually with a growl, not up for this cat and mouse game of who was in the wrong.

It seemed Isella too lost interest in such a game as instead of gloating in triumph, she rushes to her friend's side, eyes wide with concern. She skimmed her fingers over the bandage encasing Catalina's arm, inspecting it carefully. Catalina flinched at each touch, struggling to hide the pain shooting down her nerves from the fresh wound. After a moment, the hand withdrew and was replaced with a disapproving frown.

"What did you do to yourself?"

"Nothing, I didn't do anything," Catalina quickly defended, tugging at the torn edges of her mangled sleeve in a desperate attempt to hide the gauze. "I just had an accident at work.

"_An accident_?" Isella repeated sceptically, eyebrows arched. "It doesn't _look _like an accident."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said," her voice became a scolding tone. "What did _you_ do to _yourself_?"

Catalina threw the darker-haired girl a sarcastic look, her lips pressed into a line and her arms folded over her chest–despite the pain this irritated stance caused in her injured arm. She was too irked by the insinuation of self-harm to care about the harm she was causing herself at that very moment. She knew she hadn't been coping well–then again there was no way to truly cope in a situation like hers life situation–but she wasn't at _that _point. And to her, Isella should have known that as well. Catalina understood that she was motherly, she was the oldest and the wisest; she could dispense advice greater than someone one hundred and seventeen. But she should've trusted her best friend not to do such things. After all, Isella was in a similar situation, the two shared the same woes and eternal damnation yet she wasn't suspected of taking a blade to her skin.

"Stop looking at me like that," Isella broke Catalina's train of thought. "I'm just worried about you."

"Well you don't need to be. I'm not going to self-harm or try anything in that vein; you don't have to hide the scissors and knives or watch me at all times. I'm _fine_."

"Then what really happened to your arm? Because I know you're lying,"

"You _think _I'm lying." Catalina corrected stubbornly.

"But you _are _lying so I'm right as per usual,"

The two girls stared at one another, their stubbornness evenly matched. Each tried to force the other to back down until a squeal interrupted the duo, a train tugging onto the platform. Its blinding lights pierced through the darkness of the tracks before announcing its arrival with a second squeal, finally pulling the pair from their staring match. Catalina secured her bag over her shoulder before leading the way onto the train. With only a few other passengers dotted about the carriages, she easily found them a quartet of seats, two for them and two for their bags.

Shortly after she collapsed into her seat with her actions mimicked by Isella, the doors shrieked shut and the train pulled out of the station, beginning the hour long journey back to the rural town the two hailed from. The lengthy commute was worth it though; not only were the best schools in the city, but the city also provided much needed freedom from the suffocation of their village. There they were outcasts; no one dared cross their paths. But in the city, everything was normal and they could escape their fates. There no one knew the truth.

"Please just tell me what happened, Lina. We already keep secrets from everyone else so can we at least be honest with each other?"

Catalina sighed; her friend was laying the guilt on thick.

"Fine, just please don't," she hesitated. "Freak out or anything."

"I'll try my hardest not to,"

"Good because you aren't going to like it," she took a deep breath, her body tensing up and readying itself for her confession. "I didn't do this to myself, someone else did."

"Someone else?" Worry immediately flooded into Isella's voice.

"One of _them_," Catalina explained, the two exchanging a knowing gaze. "He comes to the store a lot but I never realised. Not until after your brother left me to lock up and he jumped me."

"I knew Sam shouldn't have left you alone, I always tell him to wait with you," Isella growled angrily, hands curling into fists at her brother's irresponsibility. "He is the manager and you're his responsibility. How could he be so stupid? He's twenty-two, he's meant to be an adult and have at least one functioning brain cell. I mean we _know _how dangerous it can be late at night–"

"Isa, what did I just say about freaking out?" Catalina raised her voice, silencing her friend's irritated mutterings. "It's not your brother's fault, I'm not an invalid and I don't need babysitting. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and considering the deadliness of the situation, I came out lucky."

"Not that I'm not thrilled that you're safe, but _why_ exactly did you come out so lucky? I thought they never abandoned prey especially not when they've already started an attack."

"I was confused at first too when he ran off. But I think he saw and recognised it," her hand rubbed over the back of her neck, outlining the emblem scarred across her fair flesh. "My mark,"

Isella shifted uncomfortably, rolling her right shoulder as her attention drifted to the tattoo printed on the blade. It took the form of a beautiful night owl with a deadly air, a shackle wrapped around its ankle, stealing its freedom away. But hidden within the mess of ebony feathers was an insignia, a crest that matched Catalina's. Unfortunately she couldn't hide hers in a tattoo of her choice like Isella could; she could only struggle to hide it beneath layers of hair.

"I guess you should be thankful for it." Isella murmured before slumping into her seat with a frown.

"Well you aren't thankful for any of this and I definitely am not. It didn't save my life," Catalina soon mirrored her friend's defeated position, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. "I know I should have been scared and should probably be grateful that I'm still here and breathing. But it just feels like I was _that _close to escaping, I was going to get away from everything and then this damned thing scared off the one creature that could actually wipe this all away,

"I'm not saying I want to die, not at all. But our fate is practically on par with death so at least tonight I could have died on my own terms. Death can be terrifying but with that boy, I wasn't scared at all. I immediately submitted and accepted my fate, although I might not have wanted to die, it felt _right_," she sighed, struggling to explain. "I know that sounds stupid and you're probably drawing back to thinking I'm suicidal, but think about it. No human is supposed to escape from a vampire once they have attacked,

"Once I was jumped, I wasn't scared because I understood what he was and when I volunteered my blood, I could accept my fate because it wasn't being forced upon me."

Isella's arms wrapped around her as soon as the last syllable rolled out, smothering her in a comforting embrace.

"Oh Lina, I'm so sorry this happened."

As she relaxed into the embrace, Catalina found her thoughts still lingering on the attack. Such memories would have made normal girls her age–or any age for that matter–frantic but instead it seemed to put her at ease. She felt more comforted by that moment of control than the soothing hug of her best friend. She wondered if part of her comfort came from the boy himself, not just the freedom she felt. He was so delicate for such a demon.

A sea of snowflakes stretched across his slender figure, creating his perfectly snow-white skin tone that seemed to shine through the pitch blackness of the night. There were no blemishes, no imperfections on his unspoiled flesh, like the first snow of winter untouched by man's footsteps. This fair colouring that Catalina found terribly attractive continued through his features with his naturally platinum-coloured hair. With his tangles neatly slicked back, he was fully exposed apart from a few stray strands framing his subtle features along with the bangs sweeping across his forehead.

However Catalina also found a slight air of masculinity clung to his figure, owing the attribute to his strong eyes. The two striking diamonds were set behind his glasses but the orbs easily pierced through the shroud of glass, digging deep into the core of anyone around him. It made Catalina feel naked under his gaze. But she couldn't look away from him; his daintiness was so captivating, like a glass figurine hand sculpted by a hybrid of the elegant and the strong.

"Don't be sorry," Catalina said once she returned to reality, tearing free from the embrace. "It was an interesting experience I guess. And I can try to take some comfort in the fact that he was beautiful."

"They always are." Isella corrected as she settled back into her seat.

"I know but he didn't look like other ones, he was so _soft_. Almost like a little kitten."

"Don't compare any one of those leeches to the animals I love," she joked with a half-smile that Catalina returned with a chuckle. "Or you'll ruin kittens and all things cute for me forever."

"And God forbid that happens," Catalina replied sarcastically.

"You say that but I'd worry for my sanity if I didn't have animals to keep me company at home," she paused, eyebrows rising curiously. "Speaking of which, are you up for staying at mine tonight? We could head to school tomorrow together then off to your gig afterwards to set up."

"Sounds like a plan. Besides even with all the animals I'd still rather be at your house than mine."

"Who's acting up now, your father or Brigit?"

"Both I guess. My father for obvious reasons," Catalina gestured toward her neck. "And Brigit, she makes me feel like a stranger in my own home. I'm fine with the distance between us; I mean why accept a daughter that she was going to lose forever? I sure as hell didn't want to accept a stepmother and then be taken away from her."

"What about your brothers?"

"You mean my _half_-brothers and it's the same with them still. Neither Brigit nor I want them to have a loving sister that ends up taken from them or know the truth about what's going on with my dad. I'd rather they just stay innocent, at least that way they may not have a sister but they can still love our father."

"I understand surprisingly," Isella soothed. "If I could go back and stop my parents from telling Sam, I would. This has just torn him up. He used to be so carefree and happy with a loving family but now he spends every night drinking. When he isn't drinking, he is at home arguing with my parents and trying to protect me. I'm proud of you for having the strength to do what's best for your brothers and stepmother."

"Sometimes your wisdom can get a little scary, I feel like you're twice my age."

"Better keep my wisdom in mind because you won't be happy about what I've done, Lina," she bit her lips as they curled into a sly grin. "I've invited Trisha along to your gig."

"What?" Catalina groaned before flopping her head into her hands. "_Why _would you do that?"

"C'mon, be nice," Isella scolded. "I know she can be a bit much but she's not _that_ bad. She just wants to support you and see you play. You can't deny that she means well."

"Anyone who is happy about this crap situation we are in cannot mean well."

"I know you well enough to know you don't mean that. In fact I'm pretty sure you like her on some level."

"I never said I didn't like her. She's just a lot to take and right now I'm not in the best of moods."

"Good because you're going to have to like her eventually. We are going to be spending an awful lot of time together once it happens–"

"Almost every waking hour of the rest of our lives together you mean," Catalina muttered. "You find her just as hard to tolerate when she gets excited over all of this. And you should, I mean what kind of a person can be so happy about their freedom being stolen? Everything we once were and everything we hoped to be will be gone and somehow it'll be the happiest day of her life. And what's worse is she thinks it should be the happiest of ours too, I just can't handle it. How can we celebrate the death of everything that makes us who we are?"

* * *

><p>"That was the most boring class ever," the whinging voice of Trisha Tolerico echoed over Catalina as she scribbled down the last of her notes. "I don't even know why we do English."<p>

"Essay writing is a valuable skill," Isella argued.

"Not when you're a housewife." Catalina added with a snarl as she glanced at the third member of her friend group.

Trisha folded her perfectly formed lips into a smirk, brushing off the comment with a playful wave of her well-manicured hand. Pin-straight platinum tangles tumbled over her shoulders, accentuating her heart-shaped face with a straight-across fringe tickling just above her mahogany eyes. She was more glamorous than anything Catalina had ever seen with her glossy lashes, cherub cheeks and well-toned body that she stretched as she stood up; exposing the curves of her shapely hips and dips of her petite waist. It baffled most onlookers that such a magnificent looking woman spent time with two girls dressed in common clothes, lacking her glamour and sweetness.

"I will never be _just _a housewife," Trisha grinned. "None of us will."

"You're deluded if you really think that,"

"Cheer up, Lina or you'll get horrible frown lines." She teased with her practically infectious bubbly personality.

Catalina simply rolled her eyes and smiled back as she dotted a period onto the end of her notes before tucking them into her messenger bag. But just as she felt happiness creep in, she spotted a sleek ivory envelope slipped into her bag, shimmering through the darkness. Upon the broken seal sat an emblem printed in scarlet wax, its design matching the mark hidden beneath her mane.

"Is that what I think it is?" Trisha squealed, leaning over her shoulder to snatch up the envelope. "When did you get this?"

"I thought you threw that in the bin last night," Isella piped.

"You threw it in the bin? Do you not know what this is?"

"Of course I know what it is, Trisha. It just seems they didn't get the message when I chucked it into Isa's bin as soon as I saw it on her doorstep."

"If they went so far as to leave it on her doorstep for you then he must really want you to go," Trisha suggested as she narrowed her eyes at the letter enviously. "You should be honoured, I would be."

"Then you can go,"

"Well he'd clearly rather you be there over me as per usual."

"Can we not fight about this?" Isella groaned. "Or at least can we start walking to the library already; we need to get our work done before the concert."

"Okay, I need your help with my work anyway." Trisha replied, her happiness immediately returning as she pranced out of the classroom alongside her friends, grinning at various bystanders who were some of her many distant acquaintances.

Catalina sighed to herself as she watched Trisha, every sliver of sulking jealousy having vanished from her cherub features. No one would ever expect someone like Trisha to be jealous of someone like her. In fact she did not expect it either, not when she thought both Trisha and Isella had it far better than her. At least they would still have some freedom left. Yet every time their fate was brought up or anyone complained, Trisha countered the frowns with her captivating smile, talking of the romantic fantasies they would live out. The whole thing was a fairytale to the statuesque girl and she wanted it more than anything, she _needed _it more than she needed air.

Unfortunately she would only ever get a sliver of her fairytale, the leftovers of what was offered to Catalina. She was going to watch someone else live her fantasy, someone who didn't even want it, someone who had recently considered death a better option. But the most baffling thing was that apart from her occasional bouts of jealousy, Trisha was okay with it all. So long as she could have her fairytale–all of it or not–she was happy and she knew that if she could, Catalina would have offered the role to her. Catalina knew she deserved it more. Not only did she actually want it, but she was also far more beautiful, far more graceful, far more charming. She was perfect.

"Do you need any help with work?" Isella interrupted her thoughts.

"What?" Catalina blurted, suddenly finding herself in the middle of the library once she returned to actuality. "Oh no, I'll be fine. Thanks for offering though."

"No problem. Just try not to get too lost in thought; you should actually get some homework done in our study period." She joked. "And you need to help us find a table. It seems the whole year has this time free."

Catalina shoved her playfully, rolling her eyes before glancing about the room in search of a table. But instead of a table, she found something far greater; she found those sparkling diamond eyes glaring up at her from behind glossy frames. He was there; her attacker was there at her school, somehow out in the daylight. And he definitely recognised her.


	3. The Mausoleum

_Author's Note: _Slow update is slow. And I really should be sleeping or studying for my exam. xD Seriously though I finished the first half in a few hours and the second half took me several days. xD

* * *

><p><em><strong>Vampire Kisses <strong>_**Fanfiction**

**COURTING DEMONS**

**03. **_The Mausoleum_

* * *

><p>He smelt her before she even entered the room. With only a strip of gauze and a thin layer of coagulated cells crusted over her wounds, the sickly scent of her blood was almost as pungent as the night before. It wafted through his nostrils, wrapped around his brain and trapped him in her damned memory. Her blood was a cage of his failures made even stronger when her full figure soon entered the room, strengthening her scent. She was there, the prey he let escape was at <em>his<em> school.

And soon enough even with her inferior human senses, she found him too. With her dark eyes wide and her eyebrows shooting up she stared at him, shocked and confused. As she watched him, her fingers skimmed over the gashes his claws left before creeping beneath her golden mane to brush over her neck. Only when she whipped around to face her dark-haired companion did Tripp catch a glimpse at what lay beneath her fingertips; an emblem he failed to recognise marking her jugular. His advanced hearing only picked up snippets of her whispers as she gestured towards him and her friend assured her that something was _impossible_.

Tripp couldn't understand what she was doing at his school–apart from the obvious; getting an education. She had to be his age, she certainly looked it but he had never seen her before. Then again such over a hundred students per year and his eyes usually glued to his work or his music, he never noticed anyone else. But maybe she had noticed him. She certainly knew him from the store and the quartet of half vampires didn't exactly blend into the crowds. With their startling gothic clothes and unique appearances, they stuck out like four sore thumbs earning wide-eyed stares from most onlookers.

"A little distracted, Tripp?" Suddenly one of Tripp's earphones was ripped free and was replaced with the sound of a gum bubble popping, tearing him away from his glaring. "Wasn't it _your _idea to spend lunch in the library?"

"Because you need to _actually_ learn something at school before you run off clubbing tonight," Tripp snarled as he snatched his earphone from Kat, nuzzling it back into his ear. He knew seconds later that he would regret what he just said.

"Excuse me?" Kat's hands slammed into his chest, her slender fingers curling around his collar and forcing him to meet her murderous expression. "You'd better hold your tongue little boy or I'll tear it right out."

"Cut him some slack, he's just trying to help us." Rocco defended, using his superior strength to force the duo apart.

"You may need his help but I don't," she hissed through her black-coloured lips as they curled into a snarl. "And _no one _speaks to me like that."

"You speak to everyone like that," Claude chimed in from the table's other side, stretched across two chairs with his arms folded behind his head and his combat boot clad feet propped up on the tabletop. "Gotta learn to take what you dish out."

"Shut up," she commanded, her voice booming through the library. "Both of you, you only defend Tripp because of some moronic male code."

"They are just trying to quell an argument," Tripp finally found his voice again; his tone returning to its usual calm and collected nature. "There is no gender bias involved."

"Talking like you're several decades older than us is almost as annoying." She muttered.

Her eyes remained set in a cold glare as she blew another bubble with her gum before crushing it in one sharp move of her fangs as if to threaten the three boys. Claude simply smirked with a wink whilst the other two brushed her off. Rocco did so because he knew her miniscule stature would have a hard time taking down her gargantuan one whereas Tripp was well-aware that she would most likely crush him in a fight, he just had far too much on his mind to care.

He felt like the girl's, he recalled her name to be Catalina, presence in the school was a siren alerting his friends to his inferiority and the bandage on her arm telling everyone something unnatural had attacked her. She was an outing waiting to happen and it was his fault. She could tell everyone and not be dismissed as crazy for she had all the proof she needed carved into her arm. She could run him and his friends out of town, she could bring even more shame onto his family, she could make him even more of an outcast. Not even his fellow half vampires would want him after her. If he didn't end her, she would be the end of him.

"Speaking of clubbing," Claude spoke up a few moments later as he twisted his pencil through his fingers, clearly having lost all interest in studying after Tripp's outburst. "Where are we heading tonight?"

"Anywhere good, I'm starving," Rocco lowered his voice to avoid any eavesdroppers. "And a good hunt is just what we need."

"Not Tripp," Claude countered with a shake of his bleached hair, the black roots shimmering through before pointing sharply at the slim vampire in question with his pencil. "He's already had his fair share of hunting this week."

"That's right," Rocco clapped a hand around his shoulder proudly.

Tripp smiled sheepishly, trying to act as excited as his friends when he really just wanted the floor to swallow him up. When he fled _Neon Chords_ the night before his hands, his sleeves were stained in scarlet droplets and left him stinking of fresh blood. The smell was so thick that once in the bustling centre of downtown; it took a matter of seconds for his friends to sniff him out. He desperately tried to wipe away the redness but it simply seemed to grow, to smear further over him, drowning him in his breakdown. But instead of noticing his frantic anxiety, his friends bombarded him with hugs and proud nudges as they assumed something far from the truth.

They thought he had hunted all alone for the first time, they thought he had found a young woman in the darkness and seduced her with vampire charms. They thought he massacred Catalina when he had simply fled from her like _she _was the dangerous one. He didn't dare to contradict any of them, he was happy they thought highly of him rather than knowing the truth. But he never thought the truth would end up going to school with him, practically throwing itself in his friends' faces. He was terrified they would find out what really happened, terrified a rumour about an attack would reach them or the smell of her blood would be recognised by the trio.

"Maybe Tripp can show us how it's done then," Kat taunted, running her magenta-coated nails across his slim bicep. "We can all see his new moves."

"Yeah!" Rocco exclaimed loudly, his excitement earning a stern scolding from the elderly librarian.

"Half-tempted to make her the first stop for our hunt," Claude hissed, clashing his fangs with a sneer. "But I guess if you're leading our hunt tonight, you choose the first stop."

Tripp forced his lips into a smile before bowing his head to hide the shame shimmering across in his eyes behind the brim of his glasses. He couldn't let them know the truth when the three thought so much of him now. Reluctantly he glanced towards where Catalina sat at the far end of the room, talking half-heartedly with her two companions. Occasionally her eyes flickered towards him for a brief second, analysing every sliver of his features before returning to her comrades. Tripp wondered if she expected him to launch towards her and rip her throat out or transform into some hideous monster of darkness. He could make out words from the conversation, reading her lips with ease–as her distance made it hard for even his hearing to pick up the exchange–as she spoke of an invitation, of a marking, of a hunt.

That was when he made a decision. He had to fix what happened. His friends could not find out, he needed them to think him brave, strong, deadly. Because of that he couldn't back out of anything, not if they were watching. With their own strengths countered his weaknesses, his pride could stamp out his insecurities so long as they were present. So if they wanted him to lead the hunt, he certainly would and their first stop would be Catalina's neck.

* * *

><p>As soon as the last bell sounded, Tripp darted after Catalina with a wave to his friends, ignoring their shouts of confusion. He would call them for a hunt later, when he had her cornered somewhere a little less public. He lingered only a few paces behind her, listening to every word she shared with her friends, the tallest of which with platinum blonde hair continuously spoke of styling Catalina's clothes for the evening. Although most of their conversations were nonsense to him, he didn't dare take his attention away for a single second. He wouldn't lose her, he had to tie up this loose end and he had to do it in front of his friends.<p>

He was so focused on his prey that he failed to notice the familiarity of his surroundings as the trio of human girls made their way into the centre of downtown. The streets were relatively bare, most inhabitants–living or otherwise–living the nocturnal life common to thriving cities, only rising when the sun sets and returning to bed when it rises. Soon enough Catalina reached a building he knew all too well and after flashing an ID–and assuring the bouncer that her friends were needed indoors–she vanished out of sight through a concealed entrance.

With his target gone, Tripp finally returned to reality and recognised the building before him as The Mausoleum, an immensely popular club for all those relishing in the darkness. The magnificent building housing the club was centuries old with authentic gothic architecture that creatures of the night relished in. But the inside was the real treat, kitted out with all things a club needed ranging from a massive dance floor to private booths for private engagements. Stone tombs decorated the walls along with blood red graffiti and faux bodies hung from the ceiling, swinging in the strobe lights. A line was already stretched outside the main doors to the club with over an hour to go before opening, human men and women alike dressed up in their finest gear. In fact if they weren't deep in slumber–and hiding from the harsh sun–vampires would have already jumped from their coffins and lined outside their secret entrance in their bat forms.

Tripp felt a pit form in his stomach as he finally understood how dangerous the situation had gotten. Catalina had gone into a club vampires frequented with the evidence needed to out them all sprawled across her arm. Someone out of the many vampires and humans soon to be packed inside was bound to realise the truth. Or even worse maybe she knew the vampires would come and planned to out their kind herself before anyone could figure it out. Panicking, Tripp knew he had to act soon and dug out his high-tech mobile before pressing one of the first speed dial numbers anxiously.

"Hey if it isn't the man of the hour," Claude's smug tone echoed down the phone. Tripp could easily imagine his smirking expression and a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Haven't started the hunt without us, have you?"

"Not yet but I want to kick it off soon," Tripp tried to keep the strength in his voice but could feel it faltering under his nerves. "Can you guys meet me at The Mausoleum as soon as possible?"

"The Mausoleum?" He barked in disbelief, his voice so loud that Tripp had to tilt the phone away from his earphone clad ears. "What's gotten into you, Tripp? Finally decided to loosen up a bit?"

"Just tell him we'll be there in the next half hour," Rocco's deep voice could be heard in the background. "Practice is almost over."

"You heard the man," Claude relayed down the phone before the sound of his lip ring brushing over the receiver muffled out the background sounds. "I'm really starting to like this new Tripp, might even give me a run for my money."

Tripp rolled his eyes at his smugness seeping through the phone before flipping the lid shut and ending the call. He just had to wait; wait for his friends to arrive, wait for the club to open, wait for the crowds to form, wait for the opportune moment to kill. Everything would work out if he was patient but an anxious voice in the back of his head frantically prayed that no one figured out the truth before the right moment came.

His anxieties were soon quelled though as the sun began dipping below the horizon, highlighting the darkened sky in tones of rose and persimmon. He knew the crowds would be brewing inside, setting up the murder scene as Catalina would be lost in the sea of bodies, free for the taking. Shortly after the bouncer started filtering partygoers into the already bustling club, an arm flung itself around Tripp's slim shoulders followed by a smug voice.

"Honey I'm home!" Claude beamed, his sudden movement throwing off the slender boy's balance. "But you didn't have to get all dressed up just for us."

Tripp slipped away from his friend, frowning at the sarcastic remark. He hadn't the chance to change his clothes, not when he had to stay hot on Catalina's trail. He couldn't exactly have time put on something more club appropriate whilst following a human around the city. His chase left him still dressed in the pinstripe skin-tight trousers, ivory collared shirt, cobwebbed tie and array of studded belts he had worn to school.

His trio of friends on the other hand looked as fantastic as ever, kitted out in their finest gothic attire. Claude stood closest to the ordinary looking boy, his long legs hugged by a pair plaid jeans, the hems tucked into his chain clad combat boots. A ripped sleeveless scarlet top clung to his chiselled chest along with the leather waistcoat slipped over it. His style was completed by a studded collar, an assortment of sterling silver rings and his trademark skull and cross bones belt buckle, his silver accessories glinting in the streetlights. Rocco's outfit was not nearly as excessive as Claude's, his brawny form instead dressed in a tight-fitting mesh shirt revealing his muscled torso, slightly sagging jeans, his usual spiked collar and punk-styled wrist bands.

"He still looks better than most humans," Kat corrected as she emerged from the darkness, her extravagant outfit outdoing that of most humans and vampires as per usual. Her parents gladly spoiled her with any clothes she desired, hoping a captivating appearance would attract a suitable vampire partner for their only daughter. "Some of them are just hideous."

Her pixie cut hair fell to her slanted jaw in a well-layered mess, tones of black streaking through its dark chocolate colour to match the ebony devil-horned headband she always wore. Her ballerina figure was compressed into a red-on-black cherry blossom kimono dress with a laced underskirt, the hem only just falling to her thighs to reveal her slender legs. A back-laced Obi sash was wrapped around her waist, accentuating her curves and along with a pair of Mary Jane platforms, completing her mixture of gothic and Asian attire. She never failed to look uniquely breathtaking no matter what the quartet were doing.

"Not everyone has your money, Kat." Rocco growled.

"Or can look as sexy as you do," Claude charmed, stamping out any argument that could ruin their evening. "So let's just have fun, show those clothes off."

"Only if there's someone for me to play with," Kat purred with a smirk, sauntering towards the concealed entrance specifically for blood suckers with a swing of her hips.

"I guess you'll never really lead her in hunts, Tripp." Claude prodded as the boys slinked after their alluring comrade.

"Not if I want to keep all my limbs attached to my body."

"I'm the only one who can tame the force of nature that is Kat." He corrected arrogantly, his lip ring twinkling as his lips spread into a grin.

"Yeah right," Rocco snorted with one of his large hands slapping Claude around the back, physically knocking the conceited smile off of his face. "Not even you can get her to do something she doesn't want to and you'd never dare try."

Before he could snap back a smug remark, Kat snapped her fingers impatiently as she stood at the door, her glare silently ordering the three to follow. The bat dangling above the doorway peeled its glossy eyes open once the quartet finally reached the door before sweeping to their feet. Moments later the bat morphed, a towering man with paper-white skin taking its place with his brawny figure engulfing the door protectively. His nose wrinkled as he sniffed the air with a snarl, flashing his sharpened fangs.

"Half vamps," he growled. "Out a bit late aren't we? Don't you have a curfew to obey?"

"Just let us in." Claude snapped, flashing his own fangs as identification–and most likely a threat should the guard disobey.

"Try not to get hurt playing with the big kids." The guard commented snidely as he stepped away and pressed the door open, revealing a pitch black corridor leading into the thumping club.

As soon as Tripp entered the club–and his friends immediately headed for the bar, eager to full up on blood-laced drinks–his anxiety returned and sent a swarm of butterflies raging through his stomach. He almost feared the furious storm rushing through him would burst out and consume the partygoers. He dissected the horde of grinding bodies searching for her, for the flash of her golden tangles beneath the strobe lights, for the widening of her dark jade orbs in shock, for the familiar scent of her blood pressed up against the scabbing wounds he left on her.

But he found no fearless face, no sickly sweet scent and every sliver of hope that flooded over him as he caught sight of a blonde head and a voluptuous body was stomped out. He was starting to think he had lost her, she had vanished so deep into the crowds that he may not find her even with his superior senses. A wave of shame washed over him as he climbed onto a barstool alongside his friends, their high spirits contrasting his dampened one.

_I really can't do anything_. He grimaced. _She was right there and I lost her, the one chance to fix all of this and I blew it. I am undoubtedly pathetic._

At that thought he slammed his forehead onto the bar in defeat, resigning himself to his disgraceful fate. His sombre frown was masked by the flirtatious smirks of Kat and Claude's haughty laughter to all but one pair of narrowed eyes that knew him all too well. Moments later a large hand rested on his frail shoulder, Rocco appearing on the stool beside him with a look of concern.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Nothing," Tripp lied with his head still pressed against the bar's cool surface.

"It sure looks like nothing," Rocco muttered before addressing the towering bartender, one of the many full vampires employed at The Mausoleum. "Two Bloody Marys."

The bartender glared at the unwelcome half vampires but obliged, sliding off to prepare their drinks. After handing the disgusted vampire his loose change, Rocco shoved a glass into Tripp's limp hands before snatching up his own. Tripp lifted his head to stare at the thick crimson liquid he usually would have eagerly gulped down but now found a mockery. The drink taunted him; he had to have blood handed to him by a disgruntled bartender because he had lost his target twice.

"Not hungry?" Rocco broke the silence after taking a swig from his drink.

"No,"

"It'll loosen you up, Tripp. Then maybe you'll tell me what's wrong."

"I told you nothing is wrong."

"And you were lying. Don't treat me like I'm stupid," he growled impatiently, not interested in having to pry information from his best friend. "You can lie to those two but not to me."

Their disagreement was drowned out by a chorus of shouts as the live band was announced, strutting onto the dimly lit stage. Tripp hoped this would be the end of their conversation, that the music–or squealing intoxicated girls–would distract Rocco from his distress. He didn't want him to see how pathetic he was, he couldn't handle being thought of that way by his closest friend. He could barely handle all the bullies treating him like that.

"This isn't over," Rocco grunted as he glugged down the last of his drink and climbed to his feet. "So try trusting me."

"Fine," Tripp sighed in defeat, beckoning for his brawny comrade to return. "But you won't like it."

"Try me."

"And please don't tell Claude or Kat, this can't get around," he added desperately, prepared to physically beg for his secret to be kept to just them. He took a deep breath before continuing, speaking so fast his words nearly came out as one. "Well what happened last night–or what you think happened–is not quite the truth. It's hard to explain, I just wanted to prove myself, to stop being dependent on everyone else. I tried, I really did and I had her right there, a willing victim. But I couldn't, I just didn't want her anymore. And now the problem is so messy I can't fix it–"

"What problem?" Rocco blurted in confusion, struggling to distinguish between the information he was bombarded with.

Tripp suddenly felt his attention shift towards the stage as her voice finally hit him followed by that familiar scent he had been scavenging after. She stood amongst the band, her voice flooding into the speakers along with the metal melody erupting from the plucking of her guitar in time with her band mates. Her blood was growing stronger with every note, her heart racing with excitement with every swift flick of her arm threatening to reopen her tender wounds. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack as he stared up at her, worrying that every onlooker knew the truth. There she was a blaring siren to the existence of vampires–and Tripp's failure–on centre stage, her battle scars on display for all to see.

"_That_ problem," Tripp squeaked nervously, pointing towards Catalina as she shifted about the stage, practically advertising her gashes to him. "She knows about me, about what I am _and_ she can prove it."


	4. You Don't Know

_Author's Note: _I am sorry for not updating, PLEASE FORGIVE ME! Seriously. My internet exploded (or something along those lines) and we had to get a new router, etc. It really sucked. xD Then I had exam week in the middle of that and I've only just finished my uni exams. BUT NOW! I will try not to disappear (unless the internet dies again). xD ALSO I just want to say thanks for the favourites, subscriptions/alerts and lovely reviews. (: It's much appreciated!

ALSO! I FINISHED THE NEWEST AND LAST BOOK OF VAMPIRE KISSES THE OTHER DAY! I was pretty sad that it was over but I think it was the right time to end the series, plus I was so excited to read the last book that it countered any sadness. :3 So I wanted to write more of this even though this chapter irks me as it's a filler, like a build up that has to be there for the important overall storyline. Ah well, at least I've finished it and can get onto the gooooood stuff. xD

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><p><em><strong>Vampire Kisses <strong>_**Fanfiction**

**COURTING DEMONS**

**04. **_You Don't Know_

* * *

><p>"How was that?" Catalina hopped down from the stage as her band mates vanished into the shadowy backstage with their respective equipment, pre-recorded music thumping into the club once again.<p>

"It was amazing!" Trisha beamed, her peachy lips twisting into an excited grin. "Thank you so much for inviting me! Do you guys always play here? When's your next set tonight? Do you play any covers?"

Catalina stared at the vibrant girl as her mouth ran on, question after question dribbling out. She was teetering on the edge of complimentary into mind-bogglingly annoying. It was only when Isella spoke up, her strong voice soothing their neurotic companion like an alpha wolf with a manic pup.

"You did great, Lina. You should've seen Trish dancing up a storm," she spoke softly, chocolate curls bouncing around her pallid features like coiled springs.

"I couldn't help myself, it's just so much fun here," Trisha squealed, her well-manicured hands clapping together. "And there's nothing like dancing after all that school drama."

"Studying for exams isn't quite school drama, you just don't like it."

"For a good reason; it's boring. So come on you two, let's get back out there and have some fun!"

"I think Lina just needs a break, she's probably exhausted." Isella scolded, glancing at the girl in question with an arched eyebrow, hazel orbs twinkling with concern.

"I guess so," Catalina shrugged as she snatched up a bottle of water, gulping down a mouthful of it immediately. Beads of sweat skimmed along her brow, mixing with her hair to form a golden mess. She really _was _exhausted. "Just went a bit over the top, I'll be okay in a minute."

"Fine," Trisha pouted as she peaked out into the crowds, anxious to return to her skilful dancing. "We'll wait with you."

"Sorry, she's just a bit all over the place. But at least she enjoyed your show," Isella said with a laugh as she turned back to her golden-haired comrade. "Does _that_ need redressing?"

She gestured to Catalina's wounds, fresh crimson liquid seeping into the bandages. Her heart was racing, pounding against her frail ribcage so fast she feared she may pass out. Each beat ricocheted up to her eardrums, drowning out the heavy metal music filtering into the Mausoleum. Adrenaline flooded through her system, countering her fatigue with a storm of thoughts and shivering limbs.

"It's not too bad," she replied as she ran her fingers along the cuts. "Not bleeding enough to attract any unwanted visitors."

"They wouldn't do anything anyway, not if they saw the mark."

"Don't remind me," the image of in her mind revived again, she could see his fair face, he who had attacked her the night before.

"Still feeling like the attack might have been a good thing, even if he goes to our school?"

"How-how can he go to school?" Catalina gawked, dropping her head into her hands. "I knew he was one of them. But then he was out in the daylight without even a flinch."

"Maybe he was just a psychopath," Isella suggested. "He also ran away from his prey, something a _vampire _would never do. So it makes sense."

"But I _knew_ he was one of them, I just knew it."

"When we're under attack our adrenaline gets pumping, our systems are flooded with hormones and everything becomes a blur. That combined with your pre-existing knowledge of those creatures could easily account for why you'd rationalise an assault as their fault, considering how much you hate them."

"I don't hate them, I hate one particular one of them and I hate him a lot for very good reasons. And you do too, don't you? Or is Trisha rubbing off on you?"

"Point taken, I dislike this situation just as much as you do."

The two half-smiled at one another, finding the company often loved in common misery. After a few moments of silence, Catalina exhaled a sigh and folded her arms over her chest, slumping into a nearby chair. She blew her slanted bangs out of her jade eyes as the lids drooped, her body unwinding. Her heart slowed, her exhilaration numbed. Talking about their situation had quickly drained her happiness, not to mention her adrenaline high was now coming to a sobering end.

"He's finally here!" Trisha's shout immediately sent Catalina's heart rate skyrocketing and her relaxation dissipated just as quickly as it formed, her head spinning into an undistinguishable blur.

"W-w-who is finally here?" She stuttered through gritted teeth, practically shaking with rage.

"_He_ is here," Isella began, her voice shaking with worry–and her own latent hatred. "He is–"

"Why is he here?" She hissed, blood boiling.

"Why wouldn't he be here?" Trisha asked after finally tuning into the irritation of her two comrades through her thrill. "He couldn't miss your big show."

"Did _you _invite him, Trisha?"

"Nope but that hasn't stopped him before." She giggled before her large mahogany orbs darted back to the crowds, her grin practically doubling in size. With almost inhuman speed, she rushed off into the sea of bodies, her platinum hair waving behind her like a white flag ruffling in the wind.

"I think I need some air," Catalina choked out as she watched the fair-haired beauty disappear into the crowd. "I'll be back soon."

Without even waiting for a reply from Isella, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled into the crowd in the opposite direction of the approaching visitors. Shoving her elbows into the backs of grinding partygoers, she parted the waving figures as she headed towards the hidden side exit. She slammed her body into the gargantuan metal door, escaping into the late night air.

"Thank god," she breathed in relief as a chilled breeze tickled over her bare flesh. She was free.

"Don't thank him yet," a voice snarled from the shadows. "It's dangerous for little girls to be out at night after all."

Heavy footsteps echoed through the alley as the speaker emerged, his brawny figure consuming the only escape route. The moon slipped along his paper-white skin, weaving through the gauges pierced into his ears before shying away from his dark hair. Lighter footsteps padded behind him as a second figure stepped out of his shadow, one Catalina easily recognised. That snowy complexion, those slick flaxen tangles, those piercing diamonds, those square-framed glasses that left an air of intelligence wafting around his slender body. It was him, her attacker back for a second round and he had brought backup.

"I don't know if you're a psychopath or just bored, but can we do this later?" She snapped, not interested in wasting her few minutes of freedom with a man she was starting to think was entirely human–and entirely unstable. "This would be my alone time."

"Don't play this game, I know you know what Tripp is," the larger one growled, gesturing towards her attacker from last night. "And what I am too."

His hands collided with her shoulders, throttling her into the club's brick wall like a rag doll weak under his superior strength. She tugged in her lips, biting back a scream as she lulled her head up to stare at the thinner boy she recognised–dubbed Tripp by the larger–through her messy blonde curtains. He slipped towards her, inspecting her every feature with his cold stare as his lips twisted into a disgusted snarl.

"Let's get this over with, Rocco; we don't want to get _caught_." He warned his towering comrade.

"Should you guys really be referring to each other by name?" Catalina critiqued, her voice coming out as a shaken mutter. "Doesn't that essentially guarantee you getting caught?"

"Not if the only witness is dead," Rocco sneered, baring his fangs as Tripp quickly did the same, narrowing his eyes into a murderous glare.

"So you _are_ one of them. I knew it," Catalina grinned weakly in triumph over Isella; she had not just imagined it all. "But how were you at school? That's what really had me stumped."

"She saw us at school?" He repeated in disbelief, his threatening façade fading as he glanced at Tripp in shock. "She _goes _to our school?"

"That's why _we _need to fix this right now."

"You can drop this tough guy act, we all know you're not going to lay a finger on me," Catalina piped up impatiently. "So can I go now?"

"What exactly makes you think we won't?" Tripp now shared his comrade's dumbfounded look.

"Because of who I am, because of this," She slipped her hand under her hair, running the buds of her fingers over the tattoo pressed there. But her voice soon trailed off as she noticed the two boys' confusion. "You don't know?"

"Know what–"

"Who cares, I'm ending this now," Rocco roared irately, interrupting his friend with his booming voice. "I need a drink."

"Okay, I'm ready," she whispered, a smile almost twitching across her lips. "Just make it quick."

Catalina took a deep breath as he closed the gap between them, her eyes slipping shut. She didn't quite understand the two of them nor who they were but she knew for sure _what _they were. They were just what she needed; they were interrupting her momentary freedom to give her an eternal one. And she _was_ ready for it, ready for her freedom, ready to give her friends everything they wanted. Trisha could take her place, she could have her fairytale. Isella could escape in the wake of her death; disappear into the unknown with her brother and live a long, happy mortal life.

"Catalina!"

But she knew such things were always too good to be true as the pitter-pattering of light feet swept over her followed by the squeaking club door. Then her voice came, the voice that tore away Catalina's–and her own–dream, Isella's concerned voice.

"Catalina?" She repeated as the door swung shut behind her with a boom that startled the two boys from their bloodthirsty trances, jerking them back from their prey. "What's going on here? Who are you two?"

"I told you to hurry up," Tripp hissed under his breath. "Now we've got another one to deal with."

"One for each of us," Rocco teased with a smirk.

"Get away from her," Isella ordered, her tone regaining its strength. "You can kill us both but you can kill all the people waiting for us in there, waiting for _her_. Take my advice and give it a rest for tonight, too many people are hanging on this and if you do anything, you won't keep your _identities _safe for much longer."

She scurried forward, grabbing hold of Catalina's wrist before dragging her away in her dreamlike state as the two vampires stared in disbelief. After tugging her through the door and slamming it forcefully shut behind her, Isella frowned in disapproval.

"What was _that_?"

"What was what?" Catalina murmured as she slowly returned from her daze. "I was just getting some air."

"With company?"

"In all fairness, I didn't exactly invite them."

"Then who were they?"

"The smaller one," she cradled her injured arm. "He was the one who attacked me, the one who did this."

"And you didn't think to scream?" Isella shouted over the ear-splitting music.

"I was just _distracted_," Catalina shrugged, shrinking into herself as she mourned the dream she had lost twice in less than twenty-four hours. "I can't really explain it."

"Well, try to explain it because you're starting to scare me and I can't handle losing you too–"

"There they are!" Trisha's striking voice stamped out their argument as the bright-haired blonde soon appeared alongside them. "We've been looking everywhere for you two."

Isella pressed her lips into a polite–but forced–smile as she looked passed Catalina, whose spine grew rigid. She could feel a shadow looming over her, cold breath dancing along the nape of her neck, electrifying her nerves. She could already see his startling sapphire eyes set flawlessly cut into a handsome visage, ebony tangles framing his faultless features. His body slipped closer, barely a centimetre between her back and his well-toned chest as he curled his spidery fingers around her naked shoulder.

"And here I was, worried I'd missed your show," bile crept up her throat, threatening her with nausea as his deep voice hummed into her ear. "But it seems I got here just in time for the second set."

"That's really considerate of you," Isella spoke up courteously as Catalina remained silent in protest.

"I try my hardest," the voice purred, squeezing her shoulder tighter as if to force her into speech. "I hope you haven't had too much fun without me."

Noticing the expectant stares of her two friends, Catalina reluctantly swallowed her bitter pride. Thoughts of her near escape flickered over her, wrapping around her mind and taunting her mockingly.

"Oh you don't know the half of it."


	5. The Crest

Such a long time since I updated, I am most sorry. I've been so busy with work. It suuuuucks. But I'm hoping to update more. Maybe. I'm not making any promises because I suck at keeping promises when I have so much going on. xD I seriously work like 40 hours a week now that it's summer, it's pretty exhausting.

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><p><em><strong>Vampire Kisses <strong>_**Fanfiction**

**COURTING DEMONS**

**05. **_The Crest_

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><p>"Let's go after her," Rocco growled impatiently as he followed Tripp through the crowds of grinding bodies, his voice booming over the thumping heavy metal music. "We can take on two little humans, hell I can take care of them all myself."<p>

"Do you think they are alone now, Rocco?" He hissed as he searched for the two familiar faces of Claude and Kat no doubt charming unsuspecting humans. "I'm willing to bet they aren't. And the more people they're around, the more victims we have to take and the more people we have to take, the more likely we are to be caught. The whole point of this was to _stop _any outings."

"We can follow them; even humans who know about us are still humans. They can't compare to our senses and we can even go after them in the sunlight,"

"Humans who know about us are humans who can put up a good fight. Sunlight may not be a weakness for us but we have other weaknesses, weaknesses those girls could know about _and _exploit," Tripp groaned angrily as he pushed his rectangular-framed glasses up his straight nose only for them to slide back down. "Where are those two? We need to leave."

Rocco straightened upright, his brawny form towering over most of the bodies surrounding him, giving him a good view of the heads bobbing around the club. Within a few moments, his enhanced eyesight latched onto a platinum blonde head with dark roots poking through a horde of girls, moving towards the bar where Kat's petite form sat. Her lips were pulled into an alluring smile as she flirted with a naive human boy who had made the unfortunate mistake of sitting beside her.

"I can see them, just head back to the bar," he instructed before lowering his tone. "So are you going to tell them about her?"

"I don't know," Tripp mumbled as he weaved towards their destination, wishing the topic would drop and he could pretend everything was okay for just a few more moments. "It's not something I'm particularly proud of."

"They're just as much your friends as I am, they deserve to know. They won't be happy that you told me first,"

"They won't be happy that I did it in the first place. I'll never hear the end of it from Kat," he sighed with a slump of his slim shoulders. "Claude will probably ask if she's attractive and if he approves, he'll excuse all my behaviour and crack onto her himself."

"At least he won't give you a hard time," Rocco suggested with a deep laugh.

"Unless he does _not _approve of her looks,"

"I'm sure he will; she was a pretty one. When we go after them though, I call dibs on her dark-haired friend," he smirked, running his tongue over his pointed fangs. "She was gorgeous too and I'm sure Claude will want a piece of her."

"_If _we go after them, we might just be making it worse if I try to kill Catalina for a third time, especially if I fail."

"She goes to our school, we _have _to fix this. She's too much of a risk to our identities," Rocco's teasing smirk grew larger as he latched onto what Tripp had said. "And are we on a first name basis with this girl now? Have we from her hunters to her acquaintances?"

"Shut up," Tripp hissed as the duo now approached the bar. "And don't tell them about what happened, let me do it."

Rocco nodded in compliance as Tripp propped himself onto a barstool beside Claude with Kat a few stools down, flirting away with her star struck human. Rocco climbed onto the other side of the small skeletal vampire, trapping him there to ensure he didn't run off before confessing the truth to their two other friends. Claude grinned widely at the sight of his friends, flicking his tongue over the silver ring threaded through his bottom lip.

"Where have you two lovebirds been? You're missing out on all the action," he pointed a slender finger at the crowd of girls staring at him with wide affectionate eyes, aching to grind their bodies against his and feel his lips on their skin. "The girls are looking good tonight."

"We were with some girls, things just got a bit _out of hand_," Rocco explained, narrowing his dark sapphire eyes at Tripp expectantly. "Tripp can explain."

"Oh really?" Claude beamed, nudging the boy in question in the ribs playfully. "Taking a page out of my book then?"

"Well, not quite. It's really complicated," he took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the confession he was about to make. All that pride, all the respect he had gained from his little white lie was about to evaporate in a few words. "You know the other night when I found you three covered in blood? There's something you and Kat need to know about that night–"

"I see there's still filth at my bar, I thought I'd rid myself of you half vampires," the bartender snarled, interrupting Tripp's confession. Although his two male friends were aggravated by the rude disruption, he was actually grateful. He wanted to delay this as long as possible, he needed time to reflect over what had just happened at put it into words. "You had best buy a few drinks if you're going to stick around and taint my workplace."

"Just three Bloody Marys as usual," Claude sneered, raising his chin into the air smugly as an air of royalty flooded over him. "And be quick about it."

"Wait!" Tripp squeaked as his mind focused on one particular aspect of the odd encounter with Catalina and her defensive comrade. He snatched up a napkin, spreading it out on the countertop eagerly before glancing up at the bartender expectantly. "Can I also have a pen?"

"Can you what?" He snarled.

"Just get him a pen," Rocco growled, eyes set in a cold glare as he sized up the full fledged vampire.

"Of course, I always make a paying customer happy." The bartender replied venomously, groping under the bar carefully. He grabbed a pen and slammed it down millimetres from Tripp's features before sweeping off to prepare their drinks.

"Why do you need a pen?" Claude asked curiously but Tripp simply ignored him, focusing on his recent memory.

He hunched over the napkin once the image was clear in his mind and began scribbling upon it, careful not to tear the frail fabric. He sketched to and fro with acute precision, trying to be as accurate as possible. When he finished he leaned back, glancing over the brims of his glasses with a half smile creeping across his thin lips. The emblem he had seen plastered on Catalina's neck was now printed on the napkin before him–albeit as a less refined imitation by a poor artist.

"What is _that_?" Claude asked dumbfounded. "It looks familiar."

"That's what I want to know," Tripp replied, cradling his masterpiece in his hands carefully as if it might shatter if mishandled. "And I know just who to ask."

He grinned as the bartender returned, his expression even more infuriated than before as he presented the trio with their drinks. He clearly would prefer torture to taking orders from young half vampires who he turned his nose up over. He was serving his inferiors like they were ranked high above him, it made him sick to his stomach and he had no intention of hiding it.

"What is this?" Tripp shoved the napkin under the vampire's nose. "What is this emblem?"

He narrowed his dark eyes and curled the edges of his lips into a frown. Before he could snap an angry remark, the bartender noticed Rocco's tall figure standing from his chair and retracting his hands into fists. Either not interested in risking losing his job–and fighting in his own bar–or worried at the humiliation he'd face should he actually lose to the half vampire, the bartender conceded. He glanced down at the tissue for a brief second before smirking mischievously.

"You really are a disgrace to vampires," the bartender mocked. "Even the lowest of our species know _that _emblem, it is of higher royalty than even your family, Sterling."

"Well they clearly aren't higher if no one knows them." Claude hissed, furrowing his eyebrows in irritation.

"_Everyone _knows them par you, even a few humans have known. You are just out of touch with both worlds," he widened his smirk into a grin, his fangs glinting in the strobe light as he nodded towards a pair of gargantuan vampire guards. "Now I'm starting to find your presence irksome, it's time you leave my bar unless you'd like security to _escort _you away."

"You can't do that to me!" Claude hissed furiously but Tripp silenced him with a commanding tone foreign to his usual quiet manner.

"Go grab Kat, Claude. She can bring her snack with her if she's that desperate," he said calmly yet there was a strong determination in his voice as he stared down the bartender. "We'll leave quietly once you tell us what this emblem is. Or we can make a scene for all these humans to see."

As Claude ushered an infuriated Kat away from her _very _willing prey, the bartender held Tripp's stubborn stare for a moment longer before leaning over the bar. His voice lowered as he growled animally.

"You're getting brave, half blood, but I'll only say this once; never threaten me," a light chuckle leaked through his dark words. "That emblem you belongs to our most famous representative, known to vampires and humans alike. It is the crest of Dracula."

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><p>"<em>That<em> is why you had us leave the club?" Kat shouted crossly, throwing her hands in the air as Tripp relayed the bartender's words. "It's just a stupid crest! And how do you even know he was telling the truth?"

"It's not a stupid crest," Claude spoke for the first time since the club as he leaned against a towering lamppost, the metal kissing his cool skin. "And he _was_ telling the truth. I told you recognised it from somewhere; my parents have a portrait of it hanging in the manor. They told me it was the emblem of one of the oldest, most elusive royal families of our kind and as they put it, _regrettably one of the most dangerous too_."

"But Dracula is in books and loads of movies," Rocco stated with arched eyebrows, clearly not believing his friend's story. "How can he be real?"

"We should ask my parents," Claude's voice became venomous. "If they even can make any time for me, they're probably too busy fawning over more of Alexander's portraits."

"Let's just go ask them and get this over with," Kat commanded, ruffling her fingers through her pixie cut hair as she narrowed her dark eyes. "I'm starving and the sooner we finish this, the sooner I can find someone to quench my thirst."

"Fine," he pouted as they began walking through downtown, heading in the direction of the manor. "There's just one thing I don't understand; how did you know the emblem, Tripp?"

Tripp froze, his ashen eyes widening behind his glasses as he was caught out. It never occurred to him that he'd have to explain any of that. He was going to have to tell them the truth, all of what happened with Catalina. He felt nauseous, he just wanted the floor to open beneath him and swallow him up. He even considered turning on his heel and fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him but he knew Rocco would catch him in a matter of seconds and force him to confess. He glanced up at Rocco who half smiled reassuringly, egging him on.

"I was trying to tell you earlier; there's something I have to admit. The other night when you saw me covered in blood; there was something I didn't tell you," he was starting to worry he actually would throw up. "You assumed I'd killed someone, assumed I'd fed and were so proud of me, I just didn't have the heart to correct you."

"Correct us how?" Kat asked sceptically, pursing her lips into a firm line as she watched him with suspicion.

"I attacked a girl, I scared her with the truth of what I truly am; I was just trying to make myself feel better. But to cut a long story short, I could not do it. I could not kill her. I just ran away with the stink of her blood on me,"

"You left her after letting her know you were a vampire?" She repeated before fury took over her features. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Let him finish, Kat." Rocco snapped.

"What else is there?"

"Well, I saw her again today," he gulped down the lump forming in his throat, suffocating him. "At school and she recognised me."

"She goes to our school?" Claude piped up now, eyes wide with disbelief.

"How could you be so stupid, Tripp?" Kat hissed poisonously. "Are you trying to out us all? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Let him be, Kat, it took a lot of courage to tell you guys after knowing you'd freak out," Rocco scolds. "And the girl already knew what we were. We found her at the club; we went to end it all. Her friend interrupted us but they both knew without seeing our fangs that we were vampires, they just knew."

"How can they just know?" She snarled.

"And how could you tell him before us?" Claude added with a fake sob before nudging Tripp in the ribs. "We'd have been happy to help you. The four of us against this girl and her friend, we could take them even if they already know what we are or not."

"But she said we wouldn't," Tripp squeaked, barely finding the strength to explain the rest of his story. Kat was already fuming as he expected but Claude was being surprisingly supportive and it just made him feel even worse. He should've trusted his friends. "She had the crest on her neck, she said she knew we wouldn't hurt her and showed us it."

"Maybe she's a vampire," Claude suggested with a shrug.

"Nope, definitely human; she and her friend stunk of human blood." Rocco corrected.

"That's why we need to talk to your parents, I need to understand what's going on," Tripp explained, craving more than anything to understand what was going on with the mysterious Catalina. "Something your parents tell us could be used to make the girl keep her mouth shut."

"Or we can just find her and shut it ourselves; I did say I was starving."

"We tried that, Kat and so far it hasn't worked. Attacking her a third time probably won't make anything any better," he replied with a roll of his eyes at her aggression. "We need to be smart about this especially if she knows our weaknesses and expects us to come after her again."

"I'd expect her to know lots about our weaknesses," Rocco admitted as he stuffed his large hands into his pockets. "She was a pretty weird girl; she practically invited us to kill her. It was probably a trap."

"Maybe," Claude mused. "We should just be more careful."

But as his friends continued chatting away, discussing their plan of action before moving onto more superficial subjects, Tripp found himself disagreeing. It was twice now that Catalina had offered herself to vampires without a second thought and he saw no trap either time. There was nothing up her sleeve, no sinister plot to inflict pain on the vampires. Maybe they wouldn't have a problem after all; maybe she wasn't a risk because maybe she really did just want to leave the world behind. Maybe the strange girl just wanted to die. And for some perplexing reason instead of being relieved, that idea made Tripp's heart grow heavy, weighing down his chest with melancholy.


End file.
